I Hate You
by taylortot
Summary: Chitoge is angry at herself for tripping over everything Raku says and does. Why couldn't she fall in love with someone who wasn't a total idiot? She has all the rotten luck.


Raku always looks stupidly adorable, even at the most inconvenient times. Chitoge isn't sure how he manages that but it pisses her off more often than not, and now is no exception.

Had the TV show currently flickering across the screen kept her attention, her eyes would not have wandered to him, where he sits at the foot of her couch, his gaze intense as he reads some fantasy novel he got for his birthday last month. She stares, frustratingly transfixed by the eagerness on his face and the absolute absorption in his expression.

"Oi, Raku," she says loudly, nudging his stomach with her feet. They are crossed at the ankles, propped up on his lap.

He turns his eyes on her reluctantly, glaring intently, matching her vexing tone. "What?"

She frowns and drops her head to rest against the pillow, her hair spilling gracefully over the edges of the couch. "I'm bored."

With a roll of his eyes, he dismisses her claim completely. "Well, I'm not." He's reading again.

"_Raku_," Chitoge complains, poking him with her toes, less and less gentle each passing moment he ignores her. It's not until she's got her foot placed flat against his rib cage uncomfortably, a scowl on her face, that he finally turns back to her.

"Would you just stop? I'm trying to read. Watch some TV or something."

"There's nothing on." She tries her best to sound nonchalant, even as her pulse begins to thunder in her ear when he places a hand on her ankle. _Stupid_, she thinks angrily. His eyes glitter with irritation but he takes a deep breath and his eyelids flutter to a close as he dog-ears the page in his book and sets it aside.

"You're annoying," he tells her. "I was getting to the good part."

She blinks, trying to hide the scowl on her face, wishing that she wasn't so frustrated with him. His hand pries her foot away from his ribcage and sets her heel back on his lap, his fingers lingering around the bone of her ankle.

"You can always read the book some other time," she tells him matter-of-factly, lacing her fingers through the tresses of her blonde hair. "You've only got today, with me."

He responds as though he doesn't hear the longing in her voice. "You act like you're moving away for good. It's just a little vacation, isn't it?" Raku places his book on the wooden counter beside the couch and settles more firmly into the cushions, propping his own feet up on the short coffee table.

She shrugs against her nest of pillows. "Two weeks may as well be forever," she insists, fighting to hide the blush. "So pay attention to me, or you'll regret it later."

With the shake of his head, eyes downcast on her feet, he sighs. "As if there was any way I could forget you." His hand runs up the smooth skin of her shin before settling on her knee, his thumb brushing the crease of her pink skirt. "You're obnoxious and loud and stubborn. You ought to be more worried about dying in a plane crash on your way there."

She sticks her tongue out at him. "You're the obnoxious one."

He rolls his eyes and fixes her with a glare, both of them alarmingly aware of the placement of his hand on her leg. Something thick seems to hang in the air between them and Chitoge wonders if he is going to do it again; if he is going to cross the line and kiss her, like he did last week when they got into some stupid, shallow argument. She probably should have stopped him, but she didn't, and the next day, both of them acted as though nothing had happened. But it had, and she could feel it now, pressing hotly against her.

His fingers curl into the skin of her lower thigh as he licks his lips, still avoiding her gaze. "It's only two weeks," he says.

She stares at him, feeling an itch that she can't scratch, at a sudden and complete loss for words. Her frustration skyrockets, angry at herself for tripping over everything Raku says and does. Why couldn't she fall in love with someone who wasn't a total idiot? She has all the rotten luck.

"What are you going to do," she struggles to ask, struggles to maintain collected, "when I'm gone?"

He's still not looking at her when he replies with, "It'll be really boring, I guess. Though I might actually be able to read my book in peace."

She snorts but her face becomes warm at the subtle compliment. "I thought you couldn't be any more lame. Honestly, Beansprout."

There's a beat of silence and then his mouth twitches. Chitoge is almost positive that he's about the mention last week, or say something heartfelt and embarrassing - but then he actually speaks. "Are you done bothering me?" He reaches to pick up the book and opens it to the correct page.

Irritated, she sits up straight, her skirt riding up as she plucks the book from his hands and wedges it underneath the couch cushion she's on.

"Hey!" he complains, scowling.

"I told you to pay attention," she says in a terrible voice. She reaches out to slug him in the shoulder but he moves surprisingly quick and deflects her fist, trapping it between his hand and the back of the couch.

"You're so annoying," he informs her again, though it's nothing he hasn't said before.

"Yeah? Well I could say the same about you!"

"Then we're a match," he growls out, eyebrows drawn down sharply. His nose touches hers.

She breathes out heavily through her nose and seizes the collar of his shirt. "I hate you."

"I hate you, too."

Chitoge kisses him hard, yanking on his shirt until he's pressing her into the couch. He's everywhere, she notes with weighty satisfaction, her hands roaming to the small of his back where she fists his shirt in her hands. Raku's mouth is unyielding against her - kissing her as though it is still a fight. His hand is warm and she feels herself make a throaty sound when he drags his fingers up the outside of her thigh. She never wants him to talk again if they can do this instead.

He curls into her a little more, pressing more of his body against more of hers. She trails her mouth down to his chin and hooks one leg over his.

"We aren't going to ever talk about this, are we?" she asks breathlessly as he kisses her temple, tugs lightly on her hair.

"We only bicker when we talk," he mutters back, his breathing shallow. She muffles a gasp when he un-tucks her shirt from the waistband of her skirt and flattens his hand against her stomach. He places his mouth firmly at the corner of her jaw and breathes out heavily through his nose. "You smell so good. I always wanted to tell you that."

If she wasn't already so flushed from kissing him, she'd have blushed.

About ten minutes later, he pulls away, leaving her disheveled and flustered. With sure hands, he tugs her skirt back down and then stands up, looking embarrassed. "I should probably go."

She narrows her eyes at him as she props herself up on her elbows. "You said you'd stay for dinner."

"That was before you assaulted me." He noticeably shifted his pants a little and that's when she understood. A blush broke out over her face, red as an apple, and laughter peeled out of her like a child.


End file.
